It sold...my sweet, old school table.
The table, that I have loved for more than 15 years, left my resale booth yesterday.
This almost "Martha Stewart green" treasure was bought at a surplus sale,
along with 2 other tables.
Bought shamelessly cheap, and sold for shamelessly more.
Though they were all the same
ridiculously cheap price,
one table in the bunch (wonder if there is a name for more than one table, you know like a gaggle of geese?)...bunch works here...
one table was huge.
My Bill refinished the huge one, and we used it for many years as our computer desk...
now it is used for an extra dining table...
carved words in the top and all.
All tables were bought with thousands of little blobs of chewed gum stuck underneath.
Very colorful gum, I might add.
One table is a gorgeous,
but chalky deep blue,
and is in my basement with only 3 legs,
and the 4th leaning against it,
waiting for a repair fairy.
Ah, but this little green table that sold...the one that sat on my screened porch, had a tiny little drawer (where I stuck treasures),
and a pull out writing desk;
this little table now lives with someone else.
SIGH and YES!
When I opened my booth
I needed more display areas.
My booth is very, very, very small
and there is hardly room for the merchandise,
let alone tables and shelves.
I thought the table would look cute in the booth and I wanted to change up my porch.
I really didn't want to sell the table,
but decided well...
it's just a table.
It is just a table, a precious table,
and now it's not mine anymore.
However, I am doing well with my booth,
and I think I'll repair that little blue table
so it can have a new home too.
The big refinished table?
unless...a shameless price comes along